Whispers as I hurriedly pass them by.
Whispers that could really make me cry.
Those whispers filled my head with doubt.
I didn’t realize what being poor was all about.
Whispers about the clothes that I wore.
Whispers as if it was a crime to be poor.
Rumors were rife in the school yard.
Those whispers really did make life hard.
Invited to parties, I didn’t want to go.
All snickering. Did they think I didn’t know?
I knew bringing a gift of a potted plant wasn’t right.
Their whispers didn’t even wait till I was out of sight.
Whispers continued when I was a young teen.
The rumors got worse, the whispers were mean.
Slowly but surely, I overcame their sneers.
Learning to be proud of who I am, over the years.
Now and always in my heart I will keep,
Whispers from my Dad "We love you" each night as I fell asleep.
The thorns wrap ’round my neck with silent might,
Their crimson touch a truth I cannot feign;
Cold waves rise up and cage my fading light,
A tempest stirring deep inside my pain.
Exhaustion wears my fingers to the bone,
I watch them fall like hours I can’t reclaim;
In quiet ruins, I lie all alone,
My body aging faster than my name.
A father sneers, a mother breaks in cries,
While others turn from all they think I lack;
They leave me drowning under quiet skies,
Still praying for a breath to pull me back.
Yet here I stay—beneath the storm I dread—
Still fighting off the weight inside my head.
The sky sneers at me through the curtain of clouds
I strain in vain to see if a star is flickering
The night stands stripped of all munificence
As I turn and twist on my bed,
I know for sure insomnia stubbornly
Keeps her reins on my poor self
As I lie sleepless with my torso weighing a ton,
Whispering my anguish onto my pillow
With darts of pain stinging out from my swollen eyes
I know I have lost sense of every passing hour,
But intensely feel every moment….
My ear drums are slit by the sirens of ambulances
Their blinking lights flashing in darkness
And scrawling strange graffiti on the walls
Down in the patio, I hear the swish
Of paper flung by the paper boy
Thank God! The night has ended.
But is it not for another night’s painful litany?
Yet I dream of a bright dawn
At the end of every night of distress!
I love those who sit in my silence
Silence I seem to carry with me
It crowds around my shoulders and kneck
It stifles my words
I thought it would someday be filled
By promises to myself I can’t uphold
Living vicariously through
Those who march forward
Without choking on their words
I'll keep my eyes fixed on you
My mind catching every word
Like a hovering shadow
That you only turn to
So your words can fall freely
Without thought of the listener
Some days I feel my own weight
It bears down on me
Whispering sneers of disappointment
The fogginess in my head of unspoken words
It fades their meaning
Nights driving alone
Small snowflakes collecting on my windshield
Muffled echoes from the day
Are suddenly lifted and cleared
By the warm glow of the porchlight
That was left on for me
It lights my way to the door
Remembering small things I said
Bringing me back
From webs of lies in my head
You lay your jacket over my shoulders
I one day hope to give others
The care you’ve given me
Why do people think they’re entitled
to judge and bring down the thunder
of harsh verdicts on their unsuspecting victims.
We confide in them, we trust them
until they stab us in the back
through the ribs and through the heart.
Drunk with make-believe power,
they’d rather whisper in corners
and gather hearsay and gossip.
They’re not interested in facts.
They’ll willingly exploit false accusations and assumptions.
regardless who gets hurt in the interim.
Like Thor they wield their lethal hammer,
wave it around like tongue-lashing’s a sport,
feeling all superior and mighty
with their vile sneers and poisoned arrows.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Of all the folks you know who makes you smile?
Jokes that stokes strokes your soul for a while
In a poll who would stroll to the top of the pile
Which peeps we love heaps leaps over the stile
Candour so rich scratches that itch does beguile
Hatches humour that does bewitch off the dial
Fresh as glacial air their rare own homegrown style
Another year of more sneers tears jeers than cheers
Can't rile never a bit*h even if the subject of vile bile
Alana our nirvana she can handle any scandal or trial
Religion worthwhile Fezz would walk her up the aisle
A good witch you are the best gal & pal.. no denial
As magical wonderful as the winding spellbinding Nile
You’re blinding (London lingo) doff our hat
To maybe the coolest cat that we’ve met yet
On this Isle.. let's begin with your cheeky grin
Which is why you win the bet by a country mile
Still suggesting there is a place for some cricketing rhymes in these Testing times?
In the land of lengthy cumulus curiosity amazed by the velocity of the atrocity
The crazed ferocity of ghoulish foolish monstrosity which blazed across the ditch
Where Off his Head did bewitch on the pitch so quick slick should've got a stitch
For what it's worth pithier levity aptly sums up the rum girth of the mirth of Perth
Travis’s temerity, depravity of sporting gravity, severity of brevity of Ashes rebirth
No devil may care, hoping us coping rightful heir not moping at the Gabba, repair
Dare to dream in Aussies’ despair lair ending their frightful mind bending nightmare
Cheers to elite broadsheet peers who it appears our fears, sneers, jeers & nadirs share
Ignore more hackneyed score from seedier bottom feeder media on tour, Go All Square!
Encores & guffaws .. sure you get more twinkle as you do get older
Be a jester...don't let anything pester..smoulder..floor or fester
Show jeers..fears..tears..sneers the door..that scolder colder shoulder
Sly minx..kinks & sky high jinx.. rafter of laughter from yesteryear's folder
Winks me thinks.. blink and guy on the brink.. dafter.. few too many drinks
Rascal sprinkle now a sparkle after each superfly debacle.. appears a bit bolder
Will Putin listen?
Siberia gulags glisten
Hysteria seeds myopia
Creeds..deeds feeds dystopia
Crimea bleeds...greed cornucopia
Impassioned stock shock rationed
Shepherd & flock fashioned
Russian roulette yet again
Ukraine disdain cam-pain
Vladimir fears
Scurrilous sneers
Mutinous jeers
Career nadirs
Dissident disappears
Old school kidology
Muscovite cruel mythology
Satellite strewn astrology
Fossil fuel fool geology
Ideology without apology
Bizarre highfalutin Tsar theology
Snarling Stalin’s darling anthology
Jesus was humble, a man betrayed by a friend
He knew he was a goner, yet he went easily
From a young age, he knew his place, as God’s son
There was mocking, but he did not react to it
Two others were on a cross that day, strangers
And yet, they were not strangers to his Father, right?
Jesus ignored the jeers and sneers, did not take them personally
This was the plan, he understood the reasons for his crucifixion
Yelling out “Forgive them Father, they know not what they do”.
You thought I was fragile, easy to bend,
But I’ve grown stronger with every dead end.
Through trials and heartache, I’ve learned how to fight,
A spirit unyielding, burning so bright.
I’ve faced every storm with courage in hand,
Built my foundation on unshaken sand.
You can throw your doubts, your shadows, your fears,
But I’ll rise above, despite all your sneers.
I’m not just a dreamer, I’m destined to soar,
Each step that I take opens new doors.
I’ve found in myself a power so true,
Unshakable strength to carry me through.
So say what you will, your words have no weight,
I shape my own story, I master my fate.
No chains can hold me, no storms make me fall,
I’ve found my own worth—I can conquer it all.
BY ANNA TAUVAA
The Monster is massive
with fangs and with claws
all lacquered and sharpened
sticking out from its jaws
The Monster is ghoulish
with deep, sunken eyes
it speaks whispers of wicked
and paranoid lies
The Monster is cruel
it sneers and it spits
always waiting for something
to tear into bits
The Monster is hidden
from inside its dark lair
just plotting and pacing
in the dank, musky air
The Monster is mournful
it wails and it weeps
for its heart has been broken
but the pieces it keeps
You know of the Monster
you've heard the tall tales
and despite what they say
no terror prevails
The Monster is cared for
and treated with grace
because the Monster writes poetry
from behind a fair face.
They play with my dreams
Laughing at the bursting seams
As everything falls apart
Painting with the blood from my heart
Covering walls with my feelings
As I lay there dying and reeling
They said open your heart to be free
Holding in the twisted smile I now see
There is no basement for how low
They will inevitably like to go
So draw back all of the curtains
Because misery is served for certain
And as my thoughts are bickering
The lights above are flickering
At least let me see the sunrise
Before my final demise
A lifetime of mistakes and aches
I couldn't quite find the brakes
So as my spirit finally breaks
Surrounded by callous fakes
I'm not the only one crying
As I'm laying here dying
But their crocodile tears
Are slanted by sensational sneers
They play with my dreams
Laughing at the bursting seams
As everything falls apart
Painting with the blood from my heart
It's so ironic to finally find fame
When the credits roll on this sad game
Because I have been defeated and deleted
My soul depleted and good intentions cheated
But my echoing cries
Are greeted by one last sunrise
In illusory water
A lone man row unending
Following all Life's master
Working his hand's unyielding.
Time's a river that ever flows
Began before beginning
Forever a lone man rows
Flowing long after the end
Unbending he never bows.
Downstream lies the cruel currents
Knowing the final moment
Death awaits a man's lament
Hopeless be a man who fears
Dead man be one who he peers
End is nigh yet the man sneers.
Time's a river that ever flows
The approaching end he knows
Yet the man still rows.
She chose to think his sweet talk lies were cute…
that things he said had value worth pursuit.
that substance would emerge, somewhat astute.
And while his words of love she wants to feel…
she ambles through their world hoping to heal.
She fears his selfish frost is hard as steel.
These past three years recalled with misty eyes…
he goads her daily even as she cries;
he begs excuse but sneers with compromise.
His conversation scars with bogus blame.
it mocks them both for trust has turned to shame;
it gags her voice, so silence is her game.
She made a promise, hoping that somehow
her mate would change. She’ll never break her vow.
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